


For Thomas B.

by Daftboyfriends



Category: Daft Punk
Genre: First Love, Homework Era, IDk what to even tag this as, M/M, Teen AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 06:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1335790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daftboyfriends/pseuds/Daftboyfriends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas Bangalter is his class music snob, but when someone leaves a mix tape for him, he can't help but respond with one of his own. As he begins this back and forth, he can't help but fall more and more in love with each song he hears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Thomas B.

**Author's Note:**

> The mixtape that Thomas recieved can be found here http://8tracks.com/elunore/for-thomas-b

The first mix tape Thomas found was shoved in the outer pocket of his book bag. He wouldn’t have even found it if he hadn’t lost his last damn pencil and was searching for another one in the depths of his bag in the final few seconds before a math test began and God forbid he do his work in pen and get marked down for it again (Mrs. Richards was a real pain about that sort of thing). He had been digging through, brushing past old gum and candy wrappers, notes from best friends, and God knew what else, until his fingers brushed the smooth, cool plastic. It was different than anything else in his bag and that’s what made him pull it out to get a closer look. Just a standard C.D. (God, when was the last time he saw one of those) in a standard clear case with a track list written on the back in black pen.

Thomas peered more closely at the handwriting that graced the case, it was loopy and angular and was better longhand than Thomas could ever master. It was also nicer than any of his friends, who he would’ve assumed had made the it and put it into his bag as some sort of joke.

He ran his fingers over the title, “For Thomas B.” The tracklist was something much more confusing, it began with musicians he knew: the American ones that currently topped the charts, even in France, than descended towards artists he only vaguely recognized the name of, and descended even further to groups whose names sounded made up.

Another question came to the forefront of Thomas’ mind, not just ‘who’ put the C.D. into his bag, but also ‘how’? Thomas kept his bag on him at all times, not because he was afraid he’d get anything stolen (who’d want a bag full of school textbooks anyway?), just out of habit. He couldn’t think of a time of when it was alone other than for a few minutes at a time during class when he would cross the room to turn in papers.

Thomas glanced around the room, so, really, anyone in the class could’ve been the culprit, was most likely one of the people seated behind him, which was an unfortunately large number of students. He looked back down at the case, before sliding it back into his bag; he’d have to listen to it when he got home and determine if they had a decent taste in music.

Thomas was known as a horrible music snob among his class: as the child of a music producer and songwriter, he considered himself privileged among his classmates, he grew up listening to his father talk about his music at the dinner table and was taken to music shows since he could walk, facts he made sure his classmates were well aware of.

* * *

 

Thomas got home and immediately went to his room, anxious to listen to the CD, anxious to find out just what the songs were about. He dug out his CD player, slid his head phones on and turned the volume up _loud_.

The first song started playing, a soft beat began singing as more and more tones were layered on top of it.

It was soon obvious that all of the songs had romantic undertones, well, at least they did if they weren’t thrown into your face. The tape ranged from songs with just the subtlest hint of intimacy to songs that pushed want and desire in your face.

As the last song played, it was all Thomas could do to not play it again. While the vast majority of songs weren’t his usual taste, there was something about the mix that he wanted to keep coming back to. It was as if he could figure out who had given him the CD just by some slightly unheard clue that would become blaringly obvious the second he saw it.

He glanced at the track list again and the tossed the CD to his side in frustration.

How was he supposed to contact the sender? It wasn’t as if they’d left a convenient way for Thomas to give his opinion.

Or had they?

Thomas nearly sprung out of bed and ran over to his desk rifling through his CD stack for a blank one.

It was time he made a mix tape of his own.


End file.
